United States or Sweden ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Melissy drove round to the side door, dumped out the treasure-box, ran into the house, and quickly returned with a hammer and some tacks, then fell swiftly to ripping the oilcloth that covered the box which stood against the wall to serve as a handy wash-stand for use by dusty travellers before dining.
"I sabe you'd better not try to sit in at this game, my friend." Boone swung abruptly upon Melissy. "How come you here, girl? Tell me!" And in three sentences she explained. "What's your play? Whyfor did you bring her?" the Arkansan demanded of MacQueen. The latter stood balanced on his heels with his feet wide apart.
"It's a lady this time Miss Melissy Lee." His words shook her. An icy hand seemed to clamp upon her heart. The blood ebbed even from her lips, but her brave eyes never faltered from his. "So you war on women, too!" He gave her his most ironic bow. "I don't war on you, my dear. You shall have half of my kingdom, if you ask it and all my heart." "I can't use either," she told him quietly.
At their heels was the soft rustle of many thousands of padding feet. Once there came to them the sound of cheering, and they looked up to see a group of vaqueros waving their hats and shouting down. Melissy shook her handkerchief and laughed happily at them. It was a day to be remembered by these riders.
As fast as words could tumble out of his mouth Ben answered, and then tried to free himself, but the old lady held on while she gave her directions, expressed her sympathy, and offered her hospitality with incoherent warmth. "Sakes alive! poor dear! Fetch her right in. Liddy, get out the camphire, and Melissy, you haul down a bed to lay her on.
She wore moccasins, a dirty and shapeless one-piece dress, and a big sunbonnet, in which her head was buried. Sitting on the floor of the porch, about fifteen feet from her, was a hard-faced customer, with stony eyes like those of a snake. He was sewing on a bridle that had given way. Melissy noticed that from the pocket of his chaps the butt of a revolver peeped.
"Father is still looking the ground over. He has almost decided to buy a store here. Yet he has been in the town only a day. So you see he must like it." Outside the open second story window of the hotel Melissy heard a voice that sounded familiar. She moved toward the window alcove, and at the same time a quick step was heard in the hall.
Melissy waited in dread expectancy to see what would happen. Of quick, warm sympathies, always ready to bear with courage her own and others' burdens, she had none of that passive endurance which age and experience bring. She was keyed to the heroism of an occasion, but not yet to that which life lays as a daily burden upon many without dramatic emphasis. All next day nothing took place.
Given to heady gusts of passion, there had never been a moment when his voice had been other than gentle and tender to her. Inevitably Melissy had become the product of her inheritance and her environment. If she was the heiress of Beauchamp Lee's courage and generosity, his quick indignation against wrong and injustice, so, too, she was of his passionate lawlessness.
She gave a startled little cry that died in her throat. "Yes, it's ce'tainly a valuable wash-stand. Chippendale furniture ain't in it with this kind. I reckon the king of England's is ace high against a straight flush when it bucks up against yours." Melissy threw up her cards. "How did you find out?" she asked hoarsely. The deputy forced her to commit herself more definitely. "Find out what?"
Word Of The Day